


Blood Ties

by Morgane (smilla840)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: AU, Do mind the warnings inside, F/M, Follows canon timeline anyway, Incest, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mostly Pre-Canon, Set in Season 1 otherwise, Temporary Character Death - Jack Harkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 16:19:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilla840/pseuds/Morgane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack never meant to put down roots in Cardiff. It happens anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Ties

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: incest (of the father/son variety - do not read if you find that triggery!). The underage warning is for Ianto/OMC - Ianto is 17, and nothing really happens, but it's there. Also canon character deaths, minor character death, and temporary character death (it's Jack after all)
> 
> Written for rounds_of_kink on livejournal a long long time ago (and originally posted at my lj). The prompt was _And now, as broken glasses show/A hundred lesser faces, so/My rags of heart can like, wish, and adore,/But after one such love, can love no more. ~ The Broken Heart, John Donne_ and the kinks _incest, claiming_.

In close to one hundred and fifty years Captain Jack Harkness can honestly say there is very little he hasn’t seen or done. In fact he could have sworn that his former occupation as a Time Agent, his travels with the Doctor and his work for Torchwood for the past century had prepared him for everything 20th century Cardiff had to offer.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Finding Alexa waiting for him on his doorstep should have been his first clue. The two of them had had a great time a few months back but he hadn’t heard from her since. From the looks of her she’s been busy – she’s quite obviously pregnant, and Jack flashes back not so fondly to his own adventure with ‘maternity’, a favour for a couple of friends he’s _never_ repeating – and Jack congratulates her with a grin as he waves her in.

Sex with pregnant women is great.

His indulgent reminiscing distracts him and so he doesn’t connect the dots until Alexa tells him it’s his.

There must be a mistake. He could have sworn she just said –

Then it hits him.

She’s _pregnant_. 

And it’s _his_.

His mind blanks out for a second and when he comes back to himself Alexa is still talking, telling him she doesn’t expect anything from him. She only thought it was fair to let him know – whether he wants to be a part of the baby’s life is entirely up to him.

Jack nods to everything she says, too thunderstruck to do anything else, and when she leaves he just sits there and stares at the wall dumbly.

He’s going to be a father.

 

Once the shock has receded somewhat he starts making plans. Plans he immediately discards, and has to start all over again. He gets in touch with Alexa, something he isn’t sure he should be doing but for some reason he can’t stop himself. He really shouldn’t be getting involved, not when he doesn’t know what the hell he is going to do with the whole situation, but then she tells him it’s a boy and that he’ll be born in September and Jack can’t quash his excitement at the news.

That’s when he realizes he’s already too involved. And it’s bad, it’s really bad, because he’s got to keep a clear head and consider his options. He wants this. He does. The idea of having a son, a family, makes him feel warm and a little breathless. But he also has to be realistic. He can’t die. And he isn’t getting older either. Which means that at some point he’ll have to leave his son behind in order to keep his secret safe. Sooner, if the Doctor shows up in Cardiff before that time arrives. Is it really fair to make the child love him and then to abandon him? Wouldn’t it be better – easier – to let him grow up without a father?

Jack doesn’t have any answers.

 

A couple of months later he is chasing down a Weevil when his phone rings. It’s August 19th, 1983, and there is a woman at the other end of the line telling him she’s a nurse at the University Hospital of Wales in Cardiff, and could he come over please?

Jack makes a quick headcount of his team members and frowns – as far as he knows, they’re all accounted for. Then she tells him it’s about Alexa Jones and his heart starts pounding.

It’s too early! He was supposed to have another month – he hasn’t come up with a decision yet!

Still he’s talked to enough medical staff over the years to know that she wouldn’t have called if there wasn’t a good reason. And Alex doesn’t have any family – if she wants him there for the baby’s birth, he isn’t going to say no. 

So he races to the hospital, forgetting all about the Weevil. When he gets there a doctor sits him down and tells him that Alexa came into the A&E earlier with severe abdominal pain. She was bleeding and the baby was in distress so they had to perform an emergency C-section to get him out. The baby is fine but they couldn’t stop the bleeding. He is very sorry.

It takes a few seconds for Jack to register that the doctor is telling him Alexa is dead, and then they’re putting his son in his arms – Ianto, his name is Ianto, Ianto Jones, his name the only thing his mother left him.

And Jack Harkness falls in love.

 

For the first time in a hundred years Jack takes time off work. There are so many things that need to be done, and so little time before he takes Ianto home. Yet it’s hard to drag himself away from the hospital – it just feels wrong to leave his baby boy all alone in there.

Then it’s time and they’re home and the enormity of what awaits him finally crashes down on him, leaving him shaky and vaguely nauseous. He has a son. A son he is going to raise, on his own. A son who will look at him for love and protection, and the sheer responsibility is mind-boggling.

He will not screw this up. 

As he looks at his son, a comfortable weight in his arms, he finds Ianto staring back at him with his big blue eyes, full of trust and curiosity. And Jack feels so much love for that tiny being that he just knows.

Somehow, everything is going to be alright.

\---

Since Jack can’t take care of him while he is working and doesn’t want just anyone doing it for him, he has his boss reinstate an ex-Torchwood employee, one of the few who made it to old age. Elen baby-sits when Jack is in the field and teaches Ianto Welsh – much to Jack’s dismay since he can’t understand a word of it.

The first few years of Ianto’s life are filled with quiet happiness, the Hub his second home and Torchwood his family, although his father clearly is his favourite person in the world. They have their own little world, the two of them. Jack tells him stories about a dashing hero exploring the universe, saving the world with the princess and the Doctor and Ianto listens, his eyes full of wonder.

He is a quiet child, and a little too curious for Jack’s peace of mind. More than once he goes on expeditions throughout the Hub, causing Jack to panic when he can’t find him. No amount of lecturing and grounding changes anything – and it probably doesn’t help that every time Alex pats Ianto’s head and tells him how just like his daddy he is. Ianto glows at the compliment and Jack – secretly proud – glares at his boss because his boy really doesn’t need the encouragement. And he worries. He probably shouldn’t – by then Ianto knows the Hub better than any of them – but his brain keeps coming up with catastrophic scenarios that usually include Ianto hurt and bleeding.

But then, Jack is coming to realize that worrying is part of the job.

\---

When Ianto is eight Jack dies.

It’s not the first time, not by a long shot, and for once it’s an accident. A stupid, careless accident but he is dead all the same on the floor of the Hub. Any other time he would have laughed it up and pretended everything was fine but Ianto is there and Jack comes back to life to his son’s hysterical sobs. Alex is trying to calm him down, telling him Jack is going to be just fine but to no avail, and something inside Jack hurts far worse than dying to see his son so inconsolable.

For the first time he thinks immortality might not be such a bad thing if it means he never has to see his son this sad again. Never has to leave him alone.

He drags himself to where Ianto is curled up in a tight ball, nodding his thanks to his boss who quickly retreats, leaving the two of them alone. When his son doesn’t react to his presence he picks him up, ignoring the struggling body in his arms and sits on the couch, Ianto on his lap.

“You’re dead you’re dead you’re dead,” Ianto hiccups through his sobs. “I want Daddy. Please, I’ll be good I promise. I just want Daddy.”

“I’m here, baby boy, Daddy’s here,” Jack tells him, feeling at a loss as he rocks him back and forth. How do you explain a child his father can’t die? And that he’s still the same person he was that morning, when he got up and made them breakfast?

In the end Ianto cries himself to sleep, his little hands gripping Jack’s shirt tightly as if afraid that this is all a dream and his father won’t be there when he wakes up.

 

Afterwards Ianto refuses to let Jack out of his sight, trailing after him around the Hub. Jack tries to get him to go and play on the Plass with Elen but Ianto shakes his head stubbornly and goes back to shadowing his every move. It’s even worse when Jack is in the field – Ianto just sits there and stares feverishly at the door until Jack walks through it again.

It is breaking Jack’s heart to see his son so lost.

Finally he sits him down and explains a few things. He had hoped this talk would wait ‘til Ianto was a little older – the boy has to keep too many secrets already – but it’s not like he’s got a choice anymore, not when Ianto refuses to go back to school because something might happen to his father while he’s away.

Ianto is suspicious when Jack tells him that he won’t ever leave because he _can’t_ , the rational part of his mind clearly battling with the idea, but Jack knows he’ll come around. If only because he desperately wants it to be true, and because Jack said so and his word is law as far as Ianto is concerned.

Still it takes a long time for Ianto’s anxiety to fade, and maybe it never really does.

\---

When Ianto hits puberty, things get a little complicated. For one Jack isn’t getting older, which makes his authority somewhat challengeable, at least in Ianto’s eyes – though from what Alex tells him it wouldn’t change a thing if he looked ten years older. 

The second thing is – well, Jack is a flirt. His son may not have noticed before, but now he certainly is. And he isn’t handling it very well, glaring at whoever catches Jack’s interest.

Jack just grins and ruffles his son’s hair indulgently. After all, it’s only natural that Ianto would be a little possessive. It’s always been just the two of them, and Jack never did date when his son was younger. As things are Ianto is used to having all his father’s attention – and love – focused on him. There has to be an adjustment period. Just wait ‘til Ianto finds a girlfriend or boyfriend of his own – it will pass.

It probably would have – at least that’s what Jack tells himself, although looking back he isn’t so sure anymore – but when Ianto is sixteen, on New Year’s Eve, Alex shoots every member of Torchwood Three, effectively killing all of Ianto’s extended family and leaving Jack in charge.

Jack knows he doesn’t handle it very well. He suddenly finds himself at the head of the organization he’s worked for for the past century, both grieving for lost friends and having to handpick and train a whole new team. That doesn’t leave much time for his son, and he should _make_ the time because that’s just the kind of thing that could cause Ianto’s old fear of abandonment to reappear. And it does, but Jack is so busy he barely notices.

Things only get worse from there.

Less than a year later Ianto walks in on him and one of his one-night stands. It’s an accident, really – Ianto wasn’t supposed to be home ‘til much later and Jack would have had plenty of time to get rid of the guy. He isn’t even aware that Ianto’s seen them until he hears his son’s bedroom door slamming shut.

He tries to talk to him about it but Ianto ignores him. He’s stopped calling him ‘dad’, using ‘Jack’ instead and no amount of yelling and grounding changes anything. So Jack immerses himself in his work.

It really shouldn’t be such a surprise when less than a month later Jack comes home to find Ianto making out on the couch with a boy – no, a _man_. He sees red, throwing the guy out – and he is lucky Jack’s too angry to remember he’s got a gun – and sends Ianto to his room.

He paces for hours in his living room. He knows what Ianto is doing – at least he thinks he does. It’s a way to get Jack’s attention and to get back at him at the same time, to make him sit up and take notice. Well, it’s certainly working.

When he finally goes to bed, sleep doesn’t come. He’s still awake when the door creaks open a couple of hours later and Ianto hovers in the doorway. Jack doesn’t say anything, waiting for his son to do something – apologize would be good – when Ianto slips under the covers and kisses him.

It’s sweet and hesitant, and Jack wants to cry.

Incest isn’t particularly frowned upon in the 51st century – though it isn’t encouraged either. Ianto at seventeen is old enough to do as he pleases, and immensely desirable. And why not? His son is beautiful and Jack loves him more than he’s ever loved anyone, and ever will. And Jack is accustomed to show love physically – sexually. So really, why not?

But this isn’t the 51st century and his son, despite having seen more than his share of alienness, is 20th century child, confused and desperate for his father’s attention, and Jack can’t – won’t – do this to him.

So he pushes him away, ignoring the crushed look on his face, and tells him to go back to bed.

 

After that things get icy between them. Ianto doesn’t seem to understand that Jack is doing this for him, damn it. He wants his son to have a normal life, a happy life, and no matter what Ianto thinks he might want, this is not it.

It’s almost a relief when the boy goes to Uni. The temptation to take Ianto to his bed is growing stronger every day – if only to make things right between them again and because the attraction _is_ there, no matter how hard he tries to deny it. But he knows that once he’s had him he’ll never let him go, and that’s not fair to Ianto. 

 

The vast emptiness that is Jack’s life without his son in it eventually catches up with him. He moves into the Hub, trying to bury himself in his work, and ignores the fact that his phone isn’t ringing half as often as he’d like.

Still he hopes that the normality of Uni will make his son forget about… this. The boy will meet someone – and no, that thought doesn’t make his blood boil – and move on with his life. Maybe he’ll think back on the past sometimes and laugh at what the folly of youth made him do, and he’ll be forever out of Jack’s reach.

And it will be for the best. Once they’ve put this behind them, they’ll go back to their old relationship, one that isn’t riddled with sexual tension and resentment.

Yes, things will get better.

 

But then Ianto goes and gets himself recruited by Torchwood One.

Jack seethes. He’s pretty sure Ianto’s doing it on purpose to piss him off and it’s working.

He never wanted his son anywhere near Torchwood – and yes, he knows that’s hypocritical, considering the kind of childhood Ianto had. But Torchwood London? He doesn’t trust Hartman and he certainly doesn’t trust her with his _son_. If Ianto had to work for the Institute then it should have been in Cardiff, where Jack can keep an eye – or both – on him.

Luckily he’s got a couple of contacts in London who keep him informed on how Ianto is doing. The boy works in the Archives, a junior researcher – out of harm’s way, Jack notes with relief – and has got himself a girlfriend. Lisa Hallett, a nice girl who takes Ianto camping. Ianto doesn’t talk about her the rare times Jack manages to get him on the phone, and he doesn’t know whether to be thankful or irritated.

 

When ghosts start appearing all over the country Jack has his arms full with Cardiff. But then there is the attack on Canary Wharf and nothing else matters anymore. Torchwood One falls and Jack’s heart stops.

He leaves Suzie in charge of his city and drives to London, breaking every speed limit known to man – who cares if he crashes anyway, he can’t die, but Ianto can, God, Ianto… The first bits of news filtering out say there are no survivors so Jack turns off the radio and drives faster. 

When he finally gets there there is chaos and destruction and dust. A couple of survivors, here and there, and that bolsters Jack’s confidence. Ianto is fine, he’s got to be.

As he looks for him, working with UNIT and emergency responders, he hears bits and pieces about the attack. Some say that the Doctor was here – maybe still is? – but Jack can’t even bring himself to care. He’s got to find his boy.

He finally does, three hours later. And the relief is so strong it makes him feel dizzy. He grabs him and just holds on. Something inside him heals when he feels Ianto cling to him just as hard, and for a few minutes in the middle of the rubble he finds peace.

Jack is never letting his son out of his sight again.

 

Ianto, of course, has other ideas. He insists on going back to Cardiff on his own and Jack wants to protest but there is a glint of steely stubbornness in Ianto’s eyes that tells him he won’t make him change his mind.

And when Ianto finally gets back to Cardiff he asks him for a job! Jack refuses, of course – he almost lost his son to Torchwood once and he is in no hurry to repeat the experience – but Ianto is persistent, going as far as to get a pterodactyl involved, and in the end Jack gives in.

It was a given he would, eventually. Except for the one thing that created the rift between them, there is very little he can refuse his son. And part of him hopes it will help them patch up their relationship.

But at work Ianto is strictly professional, calling him _‘sir’_ and _‘Captain’_ , and Jack can’t very well take him to task over it in the middle of the Hub since the rest of his team doesn’t know anything about Ianto – as far as they’re concerned, he is just the new guy. So Jack retaliates the only way he can, treating him just like he would any other employee – it seems that’s all they are these days anyway.

Nine months later, it turns out it was a mistake. He should have pushed, should have asked questions. But he didn’t and here they are. With Ianto’s half-converted girlfriend trying to kill them all.

They’re both angry and they both yell hurtful things they don’t mean at each other, but when Ianto asks him if he’s ever loved anyone Jack is painfully aware of what Ianto’s asking. Have you ever loved _me_? Why was I never good enough?

Jack wants to take him in his arms and make everything alright again but he can’t, not when they still have a cyberman to deal with. And so he has to wait, and make sure Ianto doesn’t get himself killed.

 

When all is said and done he sends the others home and goes looking for his son. He finds him sitting against a wall, hands and clothes bloody and silent tears falling down his face, blank eyes staring at nothing. It’s the kind of reaction Jack had expected after Canary Wharf and never witnessed, and that right there should have been his first clue that something wasn’t right.

He wants to stride in there and comfort him but he hesitates, unsure of how Ianto will react to his presence. But it’s his _son_ and he is hurting, and Jack can’t just do nothing. He steps into the room and pulls an unresponsive Ianto up, guiding him away from the scene of the crime. He takes him to his room instead, undresses him and pushes him into the shower before climbing in after him. He washes the blood off his son gently and Ianto sways in his hands, drunk on exhaustion and grief. Jack’s heart constricts at the sight as he dries him off and tucks him into bed, curling around him as Ianto starts to shake.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it, please Dad… I’m sorry,” Ianto sobs and Jack can only hold him closer, tighter, and whispers soothing words of comfort.

“I know, I know, I love you,” he says, over and over again, dropping butterfly kisses all over his son’s face until Ianto finally cries himself to sleep, and even then he doesn’t let go.

He doesn’t want to ever let go.

 

In the aftermath things get better between them. It’s hard at first, and a slow process to get over the distrust and years of hurt. Jack catches himself flirting a couple of times, an easy teasing that comes naturally to him. He probably shouldn’t, especially since his mind keeps going back to that one kiss that brought Ianto back to him after his girlfriend had almost killed him – something he isn’t sure his son remembers – but he wants this. Wants Ianto. Not that he is going to do anything about that – not now, and maybe not ever – so he tells himself the flirting is just his way to keep up appearances at work.

Still something inside him burns bright and hot every time Ianto flirts back.

 

A couple of months later Owen and Gwen retrieve an artefact that seems harmless enough and bring it back to the Hub. It’s a silvery half-sphere that looks vaguely familiar when Jack comes to take a look at it and he is still trying to figure out what it reminds him of when it suddenly starts glowing. And that’s when Jack remembers what it is.

“Take cover,” he yells, throwing himself on the ground and pulling Gwen with him just as the thing starts sending projectiles all over the room.

It seems to go on forever, bullets flying and ricocheting on the walls, computers exploding around them at random intervals.

“What is that thing?” Owen yells from somewhere in the room, his question echoing loudly as it coincides with the machine shutting down. “Well, finally,” he grumbles, shaking glass off of him.

Jack pulls himself back on his feet and grins at Gwen’s bewildered look. The adrenalin is still pumping through his veins and he looks around, mentally starting a headcount as he assesses the damage and –

Wait.

He has Gwen and Owen accounted for, but where are Tosh and Ianto? His heartbeat quickens, and he feels cold all over, because he can’t do this, not again, and Where. Is. His. Son!?

“Jack! Owen!” Tosh screams from the vicinity of his office and Jack starts running, taking the stairs two at a time and –

No. _Nonononono._ There is so much blood, too much, and Ianto isn’t moving – why isn’t he moving? He’s still breathing though – he’s got to be, his chest is rising but – 

“He keeps asking for his dad,” Tosh tells him anxiously and Jack wants to cry.

He falls on his knees next to his son, shoving everything out of his mind except the fact that Ianto will be fine, just fine, and he puts his hands on top of Tosh’s to try and stop the bleeding.

“Ianto, listen to me. Ianto!” Jack forces a smile as Ianto blinks, his head turning towards him. His son looks terrified but when his eyes focus on Jack he seems to relax, as if he still holds faith in the childish belief that his father can make everything better. “That’s it, look at me. You’re going to be just fine, you hear me? You’re going to be okay.”

Ianto tries to smile back but it’s more a grimace than anything else. He doesn’t look away though, his gaze locked on Jack’s face, and Jack has to watch as the light slowly fades from his eyes and –

He’s gone.

Jack stares at his son, uncomprehending. This can’t be happening. This is _not_ happening.

“Ianto!” he shouts, shaking him, because his son is not dead, he is NOT, god damn it! Jack can’t accept that, won’t. He doesn’t want to live if he is, except he will, of course he will because he doesn’t get a choice and it’s not fair, and please…

Owen runs into the room, out of breath and clutching his first aid kit. He shoves Tosh out of the way, checking for a pulse, and the look on his face gives away the fact that there is none. Jack shakes his head, denial at the ready.

“No. He is NOT dead. You bring him back, Owen. You hear me? Bring. Him. Back.”

“Jack, he’s gone.” And Owen sounds genuinely sorry but Jack doesn’t care right now, doesn’t care about his team’s grief because it’s nothing compared to his. Ianto is _his_ , damn it! And he wants him back. Right now.

He tells Owen as much – yells it, really – and of course Owen yells back, and Gwen is trying to calm them down and Tosh is crying and –

Ianto takes a breath, and starts coughing.

The others freeze, mouths open, and suddenly the only thing that can be heard is Ianto trying to catch his breath.

“Get out,” Jack growls at his team.

“But Jack, I’ve got to –” Owen starts to protest, motioning towards Ianto.

“I said Get. Out. NOW.” He yells and they scamper out of the door and out of the Hub, leaving the two of them alone. 

Ianto looks painfully confused and he doesn’t protest when Jack forcefully drags him to his quarters, stumbling after him. There Jack feverishly tears at clothes, not caring about flying buttons and ripping fabrics. His frantic movements only slow when he reaches skin, soft and unmarred, no gaping wound, but he’s got to be sure, got to make sure, and his fingers trace his son’s skin, exploring and finding nothing.

Never had he thought that his curse would be passed on to his son and he is glad, so selfishly glad it did. Later he’ll probably blame himself for forcing this on Ianto, but part of him will never regret it. Because Ianto can’t die, will never die.

Will never leave him.

And Jack stops fighting the inevitable.

His lips replace his hand and Ianto gasps, arching into his touch.

Jack maps the exposed skin with his mouth reverently, his eyes inexorably drawn to his son’s flushed face, his mouth half-open and panting for air, swollen where he’s been biting his lips. He is beautiful and Jack needs him. Loves him. More than anything.

He finds his lips and kisses him, and Ianto melts against him, spreading his legs to cradle him between them. One of his hands finds Ianto’s crotch and he squeezes him through his pants, making him arch against him – so responsive – but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough, and Jack goes back to yanking at clothes until skin touches skin and nothing else.

It’s easy to find the lube and soon Jack is working a finger into his son, distracting him with his mouth. He goes slow, adding a second and a third carefully, not wanting to hurt him. It’s frighteningly easy to read Ianto’s face, to see the love and the want, mirroring his own. To know that no one’s ever touched him like this – he’ll be the first, and the last. 

“Wanted this for so long,” Ianto groans as Jack fucks him with his fingers, opening him up. “Love you…”

“Me too – so much,” Jack whispers and kisses him again before pulling his fingers out and positioning himself at his son’s entrance.

He presses in, and Ianto whimpers, instinctively clamping down as his body fights the intrusion. Jack gathers him close and tells him to breathe and relax and push against him.

Ianto does and the next thrust is easier, and the next, and Jack works himself into his son in small careful pushes of his hips. Ianto clings to him, his fingers digging patterns into his arms, and Jack wants this to go on forever.

“So tight,” he gasps when he finally can’t go any further, nuzzling Ianto’s throat, and his son makes a sound that’s very close to a whine, a broken ‘Dad’ as he tries to adjust to the new sensations.

“I’m here, ‘m here,” Jack soothes and starts to move, slow and steady thrusts that are barely there, and Ianto’s eyes are so huge he could get lost in them.

After a few thrusts Ianto pushes experimentally back to meet him and Jack grins. “Yeah, just like that, baby boy. Gonna feel so good…”

And then Ianto is moving with him, his face twisting with pleasure, and it’s the most perfect thing Jack’s ever experienced. He isn’t going to last, it’s all too much, all at once. The relief that Ianto isn’t dead, the knowledge that he’ll never be, that Jack won’t ever be alone, and the sight of his son, head thrown back in ecstasy, it’s just –

“More, harder, _please_ ,” Ianto moans and Jack slams into his son.

“Like that?” he asks, panting, when the echo of Ianto’s shout has faded from the room.

“Yes, _yes_!” Ianto gasps, and so Jack does it again and again until he is pounding into him, all control gone in the face of his son’s pleasure. With each thrust he possesses him, owns him, taking what’s his by right – what’s always been his – and Ianto moves with him, impaling himself back on Jack’s cock and taking all he has to give.

His son is a sobbing mess, a litany of _‘Dad’_ and _‘please’_ and _‘more’_ falling from his lips, and he’s never been more beautiful. So beautiful. And his. All his. 

Jack claims him as such.

He doesn’t realize he’s been saying it out loud, each of his thrusts punctuated by a growled _‘Mine’_ until Ianto answers him, a broken _‘yes, yes, *yours*’_ and Jack brings their lips back together, sealing that vow.

And it’s all it takes. Ianto is coming, convulsing under and around him and screaming for his father and Jack feels his own orgasm slam into him. He holds on to the trembling form of his son and buries himself as deep as he can, feeling his seed burst from him and coat his son’s insides, branding him.

His.


End file.
